Bad dog lives on the corner. I've told you about him, he gives my mother fits. I never have my damn camera with me when I see bad dog. I never get too close, he's on a logging chain anyway. The story goes, he ripped the face off a meter reader. Seriously damaging the guy. That's a fact and the dog is guilty. Okay, then. I have no reason to go near bad dog. So, not my business. I get along with his redneck owner and I ignore the whole thing, but, Lis isn't allowed to play there even though Bad Dog's human kid is her best friend. That kid who magic marker tattooed himself with her yesterday. I took the kids to the pool to see if the chlorine would fade that crap (it helped) and we stopped at his house to grab his trunks and towel. I noticed Bad Dog had tipped over his water bucket. It was real hot yesterday. The dog is in the shade, but, it's still damn hot.
When I picked up the kids from the pool later, I had to drive by Bad Dog again and I noticed his water was still spilled. Mom and Dad were working and only Grandpa was home. Grandpa has a bad case of gout and can't move from his lawn chair and beer right now. So, I stopped, got out to visit with Gramps..we grew up here together, played together as children, much like Kayden and Lissa do now. Anyway, I asked Kayden if he was allowed near Bad Dog and he ran over there and hugged the old dog. Okay. So, I said, Kayden, before we go back to my house, get your dog some water. He's one of those kids who'll eventually mind you, but, first he has to distract you and fark around. (He's basically a good kid, but, he tries your patience.) I repeated it about 4 times. I finally asked him if he wanted me to do it. He said, no, you can't, he'll kill you! He's a murderer!! I said, well, right now it's hot and he's thirsty, go get him some WAAAAAAAATER. He did. I told him Bad Dog looked like a sweet old dog to me. Kayden said, no, he'll kill you. I sighed and rolled my eyes. I asked the dog's name. His name is Brody. Brody the killer.
I went over, just out of reach of the chain and baby talked him. 'Bodie wodie, you sweet bee bee doggie? You nice widdle puppy wuppy?' Instead of killing me, he grinned a mile wide and shook all over, twerking his big butt with happiness. Fuck, this was a sweet old dog. Kayden got in between us and insisted I was a girl and didn't know nuthin' about bad dogs. I shrugged and started for the car when the kid said, 'Hey, watch this, it's bad!' He went to the big junk pile and pulled out a huge forked branch longer than he was tall and he proceeded towards his dog. Brody got the most heart breaking look on his old wide face and started shivering and cowering. The kid offered to beat the old dog with the stick. The objective was to get the dog to make his mean face and growl for me. This was supposed to impress me.
I rarely scold someone else's kid, 'specially at thier own house, but, I sort of flipped out. I yelled at him and made him throw the stick down. Then I got in his face and said, 'That poor old dog loves you, he'd do anything for you, you're his best friend and you hit him? For nothing! He was scared and confused. Why would you do that to an animal who loves you so much??' The kid hung his head.
Grandpa spoke up and said, 'Patty, (he's one of the few people allowed to call me that) that's the way his dad does it. He sees his dad doing that shit to that dog.' I was appalled. I went off on a rant about animal abuse and stupid people and Gramps said, well, there's something wrong with him and that shit is what he does. He thinks it's funny to rile the dog up and scare people at parties. I can't tell the kid's dad what to do (he wasn't there) but, I went off in general and told Kayden if I ever see him treat that poor old dog like that again, he wouldn't be welcome at my house. He's always at my house. I treat him like my own and feel like he is too. I was ashamed of him. I was seriously pissed at his dad. Grandpa laughed and said, he knew this was coming. I never would let anyone mistreat an animal. Kayden promised not to hit the dog again and I told him anyone can have a mean dog, all you have to do is mistreat it. A real man never hits or torments a dog. A good dog will die for you, a bad dog is a confused dog someone stupid has been mean to. End of lecture. We got in the car and went home. After I said goodbye to Brody, who was very sweet to me. Interesting side note..while I was there, I watched the dog's behavior. When Lissa walked by, he noticed, but showed no interest. When a strange man walked by on the street, the dog got up out of his igloo and walked to the end of his chain. He made a stance with his legs apart and muscles all bunched up. He didn't bark or growl, but, he kept an eye on the stranger until he was out of site and then he relaxed and went back and layed down. It was very interesting how he knew the street was fair game, but, was watching to see if the man would step into 'his' yard. I have no doubt that man would not have been safe if his feet had touched grass. Interesting too, was when two little boys rode by on bikes with a Lab on a leash. The Lab came up into the yard a little. Brody lifted his head, accessed the situation and went back to sleep. This dog clearly recognized children and another big dog as no threat at all, no matter where they were playing. I was damn impressed. This sure isn't a dog who needs a threat or beating to do his job. He knows his role.
Later, Kayden and Lis were playing right outside the door and I heard him bragging again about his killer dog. I opened the door and called his bluff. I said, go get your dog. 'What??' Yeah, go get Brody and bring him here, you have a leash don't you? If not, I have an extra one. Go get him. He can stay here with you and visit. Bring him in the house where it's cool.' The kid's mouth dropped open and he stuttered, 'You don't want Brody, he's a murder!' Yeah, hmm, yeah, I think I do. Go get him and we'll just get to know him better.' Kayden said, umm, I can't control him on a leash. I said, oh, I'll bet you can, a big tough guy like you. Now, go get him. He walked halfway up the block, I watched him. Then he came back and said, 'Brody is sleeping right now. You don't want to wake him up, he gets real mean when you wake him up.' Yeah, I'll bet he does. Or maybe this whole Guntown Bad Dog business is a bunch of bullshit about a sweet gentle giant chained to a tree all day. You can bet I won't let it go until I find out. More in comments about what I found out about Brody the giant pit bull.
37 comments:
The meter reader was not as innocent as I thought. He is a party friend of Kayden's dad. They play fought just at the end of Brody's chain and got him all riled up. Then the guy came to read the meter and guess what? Brody remembered him. He saw him as that bad guy who was hurting his owner. He jumped up and literally ripped the guys face off. Now, who's fault was that? It wasn't Brody's, that's for sure.
I am scared shitless of dogs. Seriously! But the way you describe this, I just want to ruff and tumble with this dog. That is just one fucked up situation. I've seen where you have mentioned Bad Dog before. Do you reckon some dogs are just born bad, like people? Or are they just made bad?
Most mean dogs are made that way by stupid humans, but, yes, it has been my experience that some, rare dogs are born bad. Something wrong in their brain that can't be fixed. I know this because I kept one of my Saint Bernards pups. He was so pretty and I loved my dog so much, I thought it would be nice to have two. I lived on a little farm. Anyhow, we named him Sam and he was big and beautiful. He also bit anyone he looked at, including me. I couldn't break him of it and the older he got, the more dangerous he got. By the time he was 9 months old he was huge and scary. He loved to squeeze his big self under my porch steps and wait for me to get off work, late at night. Then he'd bite my feet and legs through the steps. Seriously biting me and drawing blood. The low growling in the dark was terrifying. When he started following these little attacks up by coming out from the steps and chomping me before I could close the door, I knew I couldn't keep him or change him. I became afraid of my own dog. With good reason. Remember, this was a dog I'd had since birth. He had never, ever been mistreated, hit, starved or given anything but love and a good life. He was just crazy. His brain was broken and I had no idea what to do. He was getting really dangerous for everyone. I was going to have him put down when someone called from Des Moines. A friend from work had told him about me and Sam. He had a junkyard, all fenced and he wanted a bad dog. It was Sam's only chance. Sam worked out well for him and gaurded that junk yard well. But, he never became a pet. He was always off in the head and could not be handled or touched. The older he got, the more dangerous he became. It was an experience I can't explain.
I have a healthy fear of dogs, mainly because I was attacked as a child. Twenty-two bites in the head and one over the eye, when it lunged for my throat and missed. Anyway, I have a healthy fear and mad respect for dogs, but this is terrible. You need to keep on that boy and keep on him hard...maybe your influence can prevent him from turning out like his dad, because abuse is learned.
As for that meter reader, how did that poor dog escape the death penalty for that? Around here, he'd have been put down immediately, because cops tend to want to shoot at bad dogs.
I know about your fear of dogs. Though I don't share it, I get it. We're all afraid of something. With me it's wasps and bugs. I'm allergic to wasps, so that makes sense. But, I am also terrified of grasshoppers, crickets and roaches. It's stupid and I get mad at myself, but, I can't control it. I have been known to stop my car in the middle of the damn highway and get out because a fucking grasshopper flew in the window. No shit. Not even a cop could make me get back in until he removed it for me. I'd rather fall in a snake pit. That actually has happened and it didn't bother me at all. But, bugs? No. I do not do bugs.
It can't be easy being afraid of bugs and loving gardening. That seriously sucks and you have my sympathy. Centipedes probably send you right off the deep end?
Angie, I remember you telling me about that horrible dog attack when you were a kid. I can't imagine anything so terrifying and you're lucky you didn't die or lose an eye or something. I swear, people who want to own big dogs have to be aware that they are responsible for them. I don't think a lot of them think it through. What kind of dog was it that attacked you? My bet is on a Germ. Shep.
The meter reader is a friend of redneck, so he didn't press charges. He admitted it was his own fault. Brody's owner was warned by the cops, but, not ticketed. This time.
I thought maybe I had told that story. It's a memory that is as vivid today as it was 43 years ago. You're right, it was a German Shepherd. One that I was warned about, but when you are 5 and think all animals love you, you tend to be a little careless. Lesson learned for both of us. I take care with dogs and that dog never bit again.
PS about Kayden, he is really a good boy with a kind heart. He really didn't seem to know hitting the dog to make it growl was wrong. His dad showed him how to 'train' Brody. Now he knows not everyone thinks it's cool and I'll continue to talk to him about it. Last night the kids caught lightning bugs and Kayden let his go when he was done without being told to. He's a good boy. He's so infulenced by his father. He told me he hates cats because his dad told him that's a girly animal. I told him real men love all animals and cute girls won't like a boy who hates cats. Lissa told him that's true. He's learning. I saw him petting old Bonnie cat last night. She never lets anyone pet her. It made me smile.
I AM SO FUCKING ANGRY RIGHT NOW! Please steal Brody and take him to your home. I HATE that he is on a chain and owned by such a fucking asshole. I am so sorry, but this story makes my stomach churn and my head spin. I hate your neighbor. This dog sounds like a good soul who has a shitty life. Please free him and give him the respect and love he deserves.
Poor Brody. I hope you're able to influence that kid.
I love dogs, especially big dogs, but am scared shitless of German Shepherds. I was attacked twice by them. A mother, and her son, on two separate occasions. They were my neighbor's dogs and both times it was unprovoked. Thankfully, both times, there were adults present to save me before any damage was done. What kind of dog bit you, Angie?
Brody, though mistreated at parties, is for the most part, well tended. He is well fed, his food dish is never empty, he gets endless BBQ treats since they cook out nearly every night. He is chained right there near where they sit and cook and drink, so he has all sorts of attention. He is not an abused dog in the true sense. They love him very much. The man just has that redneck training notion. It's sickening to me and I hate it, but, it's not enough of a reason to call anyone. It's the way it is sometimes here in Guntown. I'm sorry, but, it's the way it is. All you can do is speak out. Oh, and the spilled water? The dude would have checked him when he came home from work. I just made sure he got some sooner.
PS. his chain is long so he can move about a little. He has trees for shade and an igloo. He's smart enough to untangle himself, I've watched him. And he's very old, so I doubt he wants to go very far anyhow. It sucks, but, it's just not enough of a reason to complain about his treatment. Not here in Guntown. I would just be looked at as a troublemaker and there would be hard feelings. You have to try and see it from everyone's point of view. I know how bad it sucks though, I do.
And I knew it was a Germ Shep from experience. They are known biters, they can't help it. They're real loyal but dangerous if mishandled. They need to be very well trained.
A pit is one of the gentlest breeds by nature. It's unfortunate that they are built the way they are. It singles them out to be fighting dogs which is very much against their true nature. I have never met a truly bad Pitbull.
Many years ago, about a year after I got Chieftain (my 13 yr old Border Collie) I was looking for a companion for him. I was with Asshole "Prince Charming" at the time and we agreed that adopting a rescue Border Collie might be the way to go. So all the way upstate NY we went and he (not me) fell in love with "Chase". I didn't like the look in his eye from the start. It was a huge farm, we had brought Chief with us to see if they would acclimate and Chase's first instinct was to snap at Chief and then run around the field in a tizzy. He hated any sort of rapid hand movement and disciplinary tones and the fuckwads there assured us he was just "spirited" and "nervous". To me, they also seemed almost giddy at the prospect of getting rid of him, too. There were about 9-12 other gorgeous, even older dogs I would have loved to adopt but noooo, Asshole PC had his stupid heart set on this one because it was the only dog that would go near him (another foretelling sign, but I digress- even Chief would avoid him, if possible but I used to write that off that he was a momma's boy). And so began the worst 2 weeks of my dog-mommy's life.
The ride home was a nightmare, Chief cowered in the third row of my SUV the whole time (6 glorious hours) and since I was driving, the dog and Asshole spent the whole time playing in the second row seat. Cut to the next day, off to work goes Asshole, Chase was sweet as pie until he sees Asshole's truck pull down the drive and disappear. Then he turns to me and immediately transforms into Cujo. He started stalking me, judging my mannerisms and bullying Chief. And holy shit, was he smart. Cunning smart. He would deliberately pee in front of me, even after having just come in from running around the backyard. He knocked Chief into the pool, would run up the back birm and never come when called. At the time, we were on 2.5 acres so there was ample space for the dogs to muck about so stimulation and exercise were never an issue. If I tried to touch him, he would growl and snap. Eventually, Chief stopped eating and my unease became so great that I refused to sleep in the same room with Asshole and Chase. As soon as Asshole would come home, this dog would change again. He was sweet and duplicitous, as he would allow me to pet him as long as he was around Asshole. A couple of days later, Asshole, who never had a dog before Chief and a twisted sense of how to train an animal, reprimanded Chase for who-knows-what and wouldn't you know it? The dog snapped at him and Asshole gave him a walloping. I was secretly delighted, thinking this would teach Chase who was boss and he would learn to respect us. Boy, was I ever wrong.
When I was alone with him, the snapping escalated to nips, bites and finally one day, he just attacked me. I dropped to a fetal position and covered my head (Chase was about 2 and pretty big for a B. Collie, about 60 lbs and long limbed) and I was scared and furious at the same time (strange mix, that). If it weren't for Chieftain jumping him and tearing him off of me, I probably would have been hurt much more. That was the last straw. I had murder on my mind I hated that animal in that moment so much, that I think that was what gave me the courage to do what I had to do. I corralled that demon into the laundry room with a deck broom, called those asshats upstate and told them to pick up that bag of crazy immediately. Michael hit the roof when I put my foot down but I was tired of him telling me that it was all my imagination, he doesn't bite, you must be doing something wrong, t didn't know what I was talking about, this is MY dog, etc. I stood firm and said it him, or me and Chief.....but this thing will not stay our house. Anyway, asshats said we could bring him back but we have to drive him to the farm. I said Fuck no, you get him and emailed them picks of both mine and Chief’s bite marks and injuries and threatened to go after them legally.
They compromised and Asshole took the dog and met them halfway somewhere in Westchester. Then he didn't come home for two days. He think never forgave me, and that the beginning of the end (although that took another 8 years and a semi-blind eye to all sorts of character flaws and bad behavior). Eventually I adopted Scout (who is also attached to my ankle) and am now the luckiest mommy in the world to two of the sweetest, kind and intelligent Border Collies known to man. The moral of this long-winded story? I believe that Chase was born bad. No doubt about it. I do not brag, but I have a way with animals and this one was a bad seed. Looking back, I should have had alarms going off when this bad seed immediately likened to another sociopath. But that's what sociopaths do, trick and torture. 99.999% of dogs are pure and kind. The others? God help us all. I love what you stand for Pat, and I felt so impassioned to share my story because I whole-heartedly agree that animals deserve to be treated humanely and it burns my blood when they are not. I have taken animals from mistreaters, pursued punishment for abusers and once, in full view of a crowd in the middle of Southampton main street, broke the car window of some twat's Jaguar to save her dying Bishon while she was getting her nails done in 90 degree weather. She sued me, lost and was ticketed herself and lost her dog. Selfish bitch. K- think I'm done here- thanks all for taking the time to read! :) LONGEST. READER. POST. EVER!!!!!
Angie, bugs in the garden, I can ignore. I don't like em, but, outside there's more space to get away from them. I mostly go out in the evenings or very early Am when they aren't active. I avoid the afternoon sun, which they love. Centipides are gross, we see one occasionally, but, I just smack em. It's the big hard shelled or flying ones that send me screaming. Maybe that's why I like spiders and snakes? They eat those nasty fuckers. When I even think of the awful clicking sound of a big flying hopper, I seriously almost puke. I will not go to bed if I hear a cricket in the house. I keep the bug pellet industry in business.
Currently, my neighbor has a German Shepherd and I nearly piss myself every time I see her outside. That is no lie...I immediately am so scared, I need to go inside and actually go to the bathroom, because it feels like I'm going to shit in my pantaloons. The neighbor has told us "She won't hurt you, just call out her name and she'll back off". Oh yeah? Too bad for that little fox that has no vocal cords then, because she tore that little thing to bits. She's taken down a few walkers as well, but they continue to let her go outside unleashed. I get the whole neighbor/troublemaker thing...the very reason none of us have done anything. Yet.
Sorry for the typos, it won't let me edit. I guess I'm too chatty today. I just checked Brody, he's fine. Took the stinky kids to the pool.
Hole-eeee-shit! THAT is a hell of a story. Makes my Stephen King-in-the-Hamptons seem pale in comparison LOL! No joke, I had to read that three times and every time my gut tightened and my bowels loosened a little because I completely relate to that very strange strain of fear. It’s creepy and yet something in you almost demands that you shake it off and not be silly. “ It’s just a little animal”, it whispers to you. “You’re bigger and smarter”, it assures and then BAM! The switch flips, the animal goes postal and you hate yourself for not listening to your instincts and allowing your kindness and conditioning to have overruled. This shame still lingers with me and let me tell you, I have a healthy respect for any animal and shake my head at people who blindly think, “AWWW, but (insert animal here) will like me! I’m a nice person, seriously, I’m an animal lover!” Gag.
I always tell them, let the animal choose YOU. If it approaches you, you’re right as rain. (if I have to explain to them that if the animal approaches you and looks at you like you’re dinner and you still wanna pet it, either a) I hope it makes it so, b) I’ve got a hell of a story to include in my eulogy c) you really should have read more Darwin or d) all of the above). I liken the lesson to imagining if people you didn’t know just came up to you willy-nilly and started touching you, invading your private space, moving you about or generally aggravating the shit out of you? You expect you’ll shake your tail to every soul you encounter? Hell, no.
Just like when you come across someone who raises the hairs on the back of your neck and you have an immediate and visceral distrust or dislike of them, I believe animals feel the same way. I’ve more than once wanted to beat the tar out of an insensitive turd pulling and kicking on a hack horse, screaming “Make it go!” while I was at the stables. ☺ Pat, your experience is mind-blowing. A broken nose? That cunning little evil mastermind planned that. And that, my dear friend, is the most terrifying aspect of it all. I applaud you for your smarts and quick reactionary instincts. You were violated, cut, hurt, scared and terrorized and yet, you kept your wits about you. Very few, including me, have ever experienced that “kill or be killed” emotion. And I’m very sorry you had to go through that. I cheered for that third bullet and I know that if it were me, the results would have been very, very different. I would have been that joke story in the paper when they found my body three days later. Honestly, if it weren’t for Chief coming to my rescue, I may be able to say, ‘Yeah, I totally get that”. But I was lucky. Very lucky. And I’m thankful. And I LOOOOOOOVE your stories and your writing. Just sayin’.
Noreen, that is one of the scariest stories I have ever read. To be stalked in your own home by a psycho sneak o path is terrifying. Your ex is a douche and you're well rid of him. You look so much younger and prettier since you dumped him. What a crazy dog story!
I got stalked in my own home by a rabid hormonal Raccoon. I know it sounds nuts, but, it happened. She had babies, that makes the females nuts anyhow and she'd been raised as an abused pet before I rescued her took her to my farm. I figured she'd just eat there with the other coons for awhile and take off. Be free. But, she stayed and took over. The other coons feared her and she looked at me as only a food source. She wanted to control the food which meant killing me. She had a secondary form of rabies also, which is not well known. It is passed only through the consumption of infected spinal fluid. Long story there. But, I figured she'd go away or die soon. I couldn't get the disease, so, I felt sorry for her and I knew she'd just had young ones. Anyway, she was insane. I watched my back. She never came in the house. Once day, I fell asleep on the sofa and I heard the doggie door. I figured it was a cat or house coon. I opened my eyes just in time to see crazy mama hit my face full force. She nearly bit my nose off. I jumped up, blinded by blood and swung. I knocked her off me, but, she followed me. She attacked again, going for my throat quick as lighning. I fought and kicked her and shut her behind french doors in the dining room. She threw herself at them trying to break through. I went and got in the car and went to ER. Stiches in my shoulder and back. Nose broken.
When I came home, she was gone. But, for 2 weeks after that, the sneaky insane bitch stalked me every night. She was on the roof, in the attic, in the celler, at the windows, at the well, hiding under my car..OMFG, I have never been so terrified of a damn animal. They have thumbs, they can open anything. They're incredibly strong too. Finally, I had enough. I got out the 22 and I went out onto my porch..here she came. Low to the ground, ears back, teeth barred, snarling. I shot her right in the head and she kept coming. I shot her in the chest and she went down. I walked up and gave her one more to the head and that was it. It was over. She was 5 feet away when she finally gave up the charge. I was shaken. I cried and cried. Then I hunted out the babies and took them in. I got one, my daughter got one and her friend got one. We raised them with bottles to adulthood and then turned them loose together on my farm. They were the gentlest, sweetest coons I have ever seen. The two females eventually went back where they belonged, but, the male I raised, Melvin, didn't sexually mature for years and stayed a tame, sweet house coon. He was a big fat baby who never even growled at anyone in his life. He took baths with me and slept in my bed. THat's my rabid coon story. I hate it, because I love coons. But, that was the most terrifying ordeal I ever went through.
Ps, I love the term 'bag of crazy'. Imma steal that.
No. I think your story was scarier, because at least everyone warned me that coon was crazy, they knew it. I was the one who wanted to save her, everyone else wanted to kill her or dump her somewhere. But, that dog of yours, OMFG, he not only snuck around and stalked you, but, he acted totally different when your ex came home. That's so calculated and creepy. It's really scary. It's actually scarier than Cujo, because Cujo was sick and he couldn't help it. Chase was..just psycho! I don't think I have ever heard of an animal who was seriously psycho before. It boggles my mind and thank you for taking the time to tell it. I actually love long comments. I love to read.
ps, I AM sorry his name was Chase, because that's an awesome name and now it's ruined.
Damn, that dog is on steroids. I worry when I see them like that. I think the owner is up to no good when they pump them up like that! But that dog is beautiful.
I have no idea about that. Ive had pits and none of the were built like this dog. I had one only big male though. So, I really don't know. If he is on steriods, it's too late to be concerned. I mean, he looks old to me. Like, I'd guess around 8-10. But, I might be wrong and he might just look ancient.
Angie, that neighbor dog of yours sounds like an asshole. It's owner should be arrested.
Things that make you go ugh! At the neighbors. This post became a novel placing mental book mark.
I have a different side to the German Shepherd horror stories. We have a female GS who is the gentlest, calmest, most loving dog I've ever been around. Her name is Emma. She has never even come close to biting anyone and is very timid. Now, we are preparing to lose her because she has oral cancer. She is almost 12 so about at the end of her life span and was diagnosed about 2 months ago. Too old for treatment or surgery. So we watch this tumor grow and grieve for her already. She has been such a loving part of our family and we will miss her so much.
Kylie, you have my deepest sympathy on the illness of your best buddy. You know I didn't mean they all bite, just as a breed, they are prone to. All dogs are so individual, aren't they. We lost a sweet GS next door to old age. That dog was like yours, so good and trustworthy. Awww, I am sorry.
ps..Niki weights 6 pounds and he bites. You can't trust him at all. Strange how it works.
Kylie;
I'm so sorry. My 11 yr old Chihuahua started going down last year. My husband quickly got a poodle last year from a really good friend, kind of as a thank you gift. He jumped on getting that dog because he knew once my little Miho was gone, it would be a long time before I could look at another dog. He brought home Buddy last year and he's been wonderful. We lost Miho in March. We lost my dad last Oct., and I've yet to shed the first tear over it. But....if I think about Miho for too long,the tears just start coming. He was such a great companion through so many rough times.
I'm sorry, Kylie. It really takes time for us to get past this. Hugs to you, my dog loving seestah.
Tell Grandad to order some Goutpro off of Amazon ($25 for 60 tablets). Saved my life!! Seriously!! It's expensive, but if he takes it as directly, he'll be so happy. I haven't had a Goutburst since January (and that one sent me to Urgent Care it was so bad!). Linda in LA
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